


Power Inside

by whoknows



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Impregnation Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoknows/pseuds/whoknows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.</p>
<p>Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”</p>
<p>Where is this even <i>going</i>. Harry honestly has no clue.</p>
<p>Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”</p>
<p>Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.</p>
<p>“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”</p>
<p>He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blakecoffeeandcigarettes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakecoffeeandcigarettes/gifts).



> Hi, blakecoffeeandcigarettes! I chose your second prompt, the impregnation one. It veered a little bit from your prompt because Louis is the one who ends up initiating, but I hope you don't mind and still enjoy it. Also, there's a tiny bit at the beginning of **Louis with his family** for anyone who's expecting pure porn. And it gets a little subspace-y towards the end but not overtly so (another thing I hope you don't mind!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

“Say Louis,” Louis tells Ernest, sitting propped up in the circle of his legs, “Lou-ie. C’mon, Ernie, don’t you want your first word to be your awesome big brother’s name? Lou-ie. I’ll even take Lew-is. I know you can do it.” He tickles Ernest’s side, coaxing an excited squeal and babble out of him.

Harry watches him from underneath his sunglasses, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Doris is asleep on his chest, and quite frankly she’s making him both hot and sweaty, not to mention the fact that his arm has been numb for the past twenty minutes.

Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.

“His first word is obviously going to be his favourite uncle’s name,” Harry says, nudging at Louis’ thigh with a foot.

Louis doesn’t even look at him, scooping Ernest up and holding him up over his head. “Your first word is gonna be Niall?” he asks excitedly, bringing Ernest down just enough he can layer kisses all over his face, making him squeal even louder.

Harry groans, laying a hand on Doris’ back and hushing her when she makes a disgruntled noise. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you,” he says to the sky, letting his head tip back against the chair. A few minutes go by, the sounds of Louis playing with Ernest in his ears and the scent of summer in the air. It’s a nice day, not rainy for once, and the grass is crisp underneath his bare toes.

Eventually Ernest’s cries turn less happy and more agitated. Harry cracks one eye open and watches as Louis murmurs soft, soothing things as he cradles the baby in his arms and walks across the lawn, back to where Harry’s lounging in the comfiest patio furniture known to humanity.

Seriously. Harry needs to ask Jay where she got this stuff. It’s that amazing.

“I know, buddy, you’re tired, huh,” Louis is saying even as he climbs onto the sofa beside Harry and leans into his side, rocking Ernest to sleep easily. 

Then, being Louis, he rolls Ernest onto the sliver of space left on Harry’s shoulder and lays an arm across both babies lightly, leaning up to press a kiss to Harry’s mouth. 

“It’s bloody hot out here,” he grumbles, picking at a loose thread in Harry’s shirt. “And I want lemonade.”

“There’s lemonade inside the house,” Harry points out, shifting so he can curl his free arm around Louis’ shoulders, keeping them all close together.

Louis sighs dramatically. “Yes, Harold, I’m well aware of the fact that there’s lemonade inside the house. I think you’re missing the fact that I’m out here, though.”

Harry rolls his eyes and pinches at Louis’ shoulder. Louis yelps and elbows him, but it’s too hot to really do much more than that, so he settles back down quickly, still leaning against Harry’s side.

That’s how Jay finds them, curled up outside with her babies asleep on Harry’s chest and her oldest nearly the same. The lines around her eyes deepen with her smile as she leans down to press a kiss to the top of Harry’s head.

“They give you any trouble?” she asks, removing Ernest from Harry’s shoulder efficiently.

“Mostly just this one,” Harry says, nudging at Louis’ ribs. Louis mumbles sleepily, nudging back.

“Ah, my biggest brat,” Jay sighs, taking Doris just as efficiently. Harry still has no idea how she does it.

He’s seen Louis do it, too, though, so maybe it’s just something that runs in the family.

“Hey,” Louis protests, slumping farther into Harry’s lap. “’m not a brat. And I want lemonade, mum.”

“You are a brat,” Harry says, easing out from underneath him and sticking a finger in his ear, avoiding the flail of his hands as he tries to slap at Harry’s arms. “I’ll get you your bloody lemonade, christ.”

“I hate you,” Louis says happily, curling up on his side and burying his face into the cushions. Harry rolls his eyes and heads into the house behind Jay, still juggling the twins expertly.

Seriously. _How_.

 

Later, after they’ve been banished back to their own house and Louis has spent approximately an hour and a half kissing and hugging each of his siblings goodbye - particularly the ones who claim they don’t want hugs and kisses - Louis straddles Harry’s hips on their bed and pokes a finger into Harry’s chest.

“You want one,” he says accusingly.

Harry grabs his finger and raises both eyebrows at him. “I want about a million of them,” he says truthfully. “This isn’t news.”

Louis pokes him with the other hand. “You want one _right now_ ,” he says, still accusingly. “You wanted to kidnap me baby brother and sister, Harold, don’t think that I didn’t see that sinister gleam in your eyes.”

“You mean the babies I can literally see anytime I want to?” Harry asks, eyebrows still raised. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to kidnap a baby who parents wouldn’t just come to our house to get it back?”

Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.

Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”

Where is this even _going_. Harry honestly has no clue.

Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”

Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.

“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”

He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.

“You’re so weird,” Harry says, but he’s already rolling on top of Louis, leaning down to kiss him somewhat inefficiently. It’s mostly the corner of his mouth, but it’s a kiss nonetheless, a soft press of lips as Harry searches for Louis’ wrists, tries to get a hold of them.

“You love my weird,” Louis says, shoving both hands up underneath Harry’s shirt and groping at his armpits. “You wanna fuck my weird.”

Harry pulls back just enough to level Louis with an unimpressed look. “Are you going to stop anytime soon or am I gonna have to put up with your shit the whole time?”

Louis knees him. “You have to put up with my shit for the rest of your _life_ , Harold,” he says, struggling until he’s managed to flip them over and sit back down on Harry’s hips.

The only thing Harry can do is shove his arms underneath his head and take it. “Are we going to have sex anytime this century or are you going to keep talking shit?” 

The bite Louis lays on his jaw isn’t exactly unexpected. “Shut up and give me a baby,” he orders. As if Harry hasn’t been _trying_ to do just that for the past fifteen minutes.

Well. Maybe not fifteen minutes, but the point stands.

“Sometimes I worry about you,” Harry says, leaning up anyway to wrap his arms around Louis’ back and kiss him again, full on the mouth this time. Still soft and tender but decidedly wetter, more erotic. More tongue.

A lot more tongue.

“Worry about the lack of babies there are in me?” Louis asks, breaking the kiss.

Harry sighs. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

“If you wanna get laid anytime tonight we’re doing this,” Louis says, wiggling in Harry’s lap. “’Sides, you’re totally into it. I can feel your cock in my arse.”

“My cock is in your arse because you’re wiggling around on my lap,” Harry says, a tad outraged, and kisses Louis before he can say something and them off track again.

Getting off track is kind of a thing for them.

Harry does the tongue thing, the one that always makes Louis shiver, and then again so he’ll be really distracted from telling Harry in detail all the ways he’s wrong, and then one more time just because he really likes how it feels.

The taste of smoke is still clinging to Louis’ tongue from the cigarette he snuck when he claimed he was going to get the mail. “If you really wanna get knocked up you’re gonna have to stop smoking,” Harry murmurs, sweeping his hand down Louis’ back. “S’not good for a baby.”

Louis’ shiver is full body. Which is. Interesting. “I will,” he says eagerly, more like a promise than anything.

Blood flows through Harry’s veins and settles in his groin, cock thick and full and still trapped in his pants. It’s a reaction he didn’t necessarily see coming. It’s probably the reason Louis was so insistent about this.

“You want a baby that bad, huh?” Harry asks, sliding a hand up Louis’ chest to flick over his nipples, trying to incite a whimper. Is successful. “Willing to give up all your bad habits just so you can carry my baby around in you for nine months? Just so we can be a _family_?”

“Yes,” Louis says, wiggling right on top of Harry’s cock. “I want a baby, Harry, are you going to give me one?”

Christ. This is way hotter than it has any right to be. 

“You know I’m gonna give you anything you want,” Harry says, hauling Louis up with an arm underneath his bum so he can flip them back over, get back on top.

Louis doesn’t waste a second in looping his arms around Harry’s neck and settling them together comfortably. “Anything?” he asks, breath sweet against the side of Harry’s face.

“Anything,” Harry confirms, dragging his thumb across Louis’ bottom lip, watching the way his pupils dilate.

“So get me naked,” Louis demands, pinching the back of Harry’s neck.

Put like that, who is Harry not to oblige? He pulls Louis’ shirt up over his head and then leans back so he can strip his shorts off of his legs, letting them fall wherever they want. Then Louis is naked and Harry is still wearing his vest and pants, hovering over Louis, keeping him pinned down.

Louis’ cock is lying hard and wet against his belly. There’s a flush sitting high in his cheeks that flows all the way down his throat to his collarbones, sweat pooling in the dip between them, lips pink and chapped from the way he’s been licking at them all day. 

Harry offered him his chapstick about a thousand times and Louis kept refusing, insisting that he didn’t need it, stubborn to a fault. Chances are Harry will wake up in the middle of the night to Louis rummaging through the nightstand for the spare stick Harry keeps in there.

“Like what you see?” Louis asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You know I do,” Harry says, trailing his thumb over Louis’ collarbones, up his throat, pausing for a second to feel his pulse, hammering underneath his skin.

Harry’s heart echoes it, fast and frantic in his chest. The urge to spout more shit is written all over Louis’ face, plain and obvious the way it always is when he’s feeling a little vulnerable. If Harry doesn’t pre-empt it there’s a high chance it could literally go on all day.

There’s so many feelings colliding in his chest that he’s not even sure whether he’d mind.

“You sure this is the right time of the month?” Harry asks, letting the edge of his thumbnail drift over the line of Louis’ lip. His voice comes out a little deeper than he’d been intending, but it’s not like that’s a bad thing, not with the way Louis goes lax for him, trusting and every bit Harry’s.

“It is,” Louis says breathlessly, eyes big and blue, fingers digging into the back of Harry’s neck as if he’s unwilling to let him get too far. “I’m sure.”

“Yeah?” Harry presses, dropping one hand to touch Louis’ cock, enjoying the way it jerks underneath his fingers, thick and hard.

Louis arches up into the touch, trying to get more of it. Harry avoids it deftly, still just trailing his fingers along the shaft, tracing the vein. He doesn’t even really know what he’s trying to do, only that he wants something _more_. Something else.

Not that this isn’t good, because it is - his cock is pressing against the fly of his own shorts, threatening to burst out, fully hard, and his pulse is rushing through his veins, butterflies flitting around in his belly, but there’s something else this could have and he knows it, even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is.

“ _Please_ ,” Louis says, the word bursting out of him even as he scratches at Harry’s back mindlessly, “Please, Harry, I want it. Want you to give me a baby, knock me up, make me all full - ”

Alright, that’s what it is. Harry should have realized. Louis begging is music to his ears. Almost literally.

“Shh, baby,” Harry murmurs, still sweeping his fingers against Louis’ cock, pre-come wet and sticky around his knuckles. “I know what you want.”

“I’ve been fucking _telling_ you what I want,” Louis hisses, thrashing on the bed so much Harry has to pin him down with the hand he’d been using to touch his cock while he searches for the lube with the other.

Although. There is a better way to get him to go still.

“Shh,” Harry murmurs again, except this time he slips his still wet fingers up to Louis’ mouth and presses two in, just a little, just the tips.

Louis’ eyes go dark. His mouth is warm and slick around Harry’s fingers, biting down harshly, but he sucks them in farther on his own accord, tongue working at them without any pressure from Harry. He must be tasting himself, salty and sweet, but the only thing he does is suck, cheeks hollowing and eyelashes lowering.

Harry’s cock gets impossibly harder. “Just gonna open you up,” he says, quiet and sure in the stillness of the room. Somehow he manages to get the lube open with one hand and slick up a few fingers, slipping one past the tight rim of Louis’ hole.

Probably should have taken his clothes off first. It’s too late now, now that Louis’ arse is clinging tight and hot around a single finger, face breaking already, every emotion he’s feeling written all over his face.

“Please,” Louis says again, softer this time, slurring it out around Harry’s fingers. _Give me what I need_ hangs in the air unsaid.

It doesn’t need to be said. Harry hears it. Harry will always hear him.

“I have you,” he says, bending forward to kiss Louis’ mouth, not even bothering to take his fingers out. Just slips them to the side, edging against Louis’ teeth. The kiss is clumsy and too wet, saliva seeping out around Harry’s knuckles, down his wrist. Messy.

Messy. Messy like he’s going to make Louis’ arse because Louis wants him to knock him up.

The throbbing in Harry’s cock gets faster.

“Prettiest boy in the world and the thing you want most in the world is to be all full of my baby,” Harry says, easing his fingers out of Louis’ mouth and trailing them across his jaw, leaving a trail of spit in his wake.

“Not the only thing,” Louis says softly, reaching up to hook his pinky around Harry’s still damp fingers, stilling them. “Wanna be full of your cock, too.”

“My cock and my baby,” Harry says, distracted by the thought of it. He pushes a second finger inside next to the first, wiggling them slowly, carefully. Wouldn’t do to have his beautiful, gorgeous boy in pain.

Not unless he wants to be in pain, of course. But that’s a scenario for another day.

“And you want it too,” Louis says, still holding onto his fingers. “You wanna knock me up, darling, don’t you? Wanna pump me full of your come over and over again until it takes, until there’s a baby growing in me belly, all yours every which way.”

He’s already all Harry’s every which way. Harry doesn’t need to say it out loud for both of them to know it’s true.

He’s going to say it out loud anyway.

“You are mine,” he says simply, crooking both fingers right up against Louis’ prostate. Louis squirms, shivers. Moans, pretty little mouth dropping open, flash of pink tongue taunting Harry, begging him to bite at it. “Never gonna be anyone’s other than mine, are you? Not with the way you love me.”

Louis shifts, curling a leg behind Harry’s back, trapping him there. Sweat gleams in the hollow of his throat, too tempting not to bite at. His answering noise is throaty and low, cock bumping up against Harry’s belly as he moves some more, wiggling on Harry’s fingers. He’s loose enough now that Harry can add a third one, wetting him on the inside for Harry’s cock, making space.

“I am yours,” Louis whispers, canting his hips up to help the angle, sliding his fingers over Harry’s shoulders slow and sensual. It’s a dirty fucking tease in the best possible way, hinting at the way he’ll scratch and claw at Harry’s shoulders once Harry’s finally fucking him, finally filling him up, giving him what he wants. What he needs. “And you’re mine.”

He’s so fucking right. Harry’s been his since the day they met, knows Louis has been his the very same way for just as long, and maybe it shouldn’t still be such a turn on almost five years later but it still is.

Louis still is.

“Yeah, baby,” Harry says, crushing their mouths back together, hurrying up the fingering. It’s all he can think about now, about filling Louis up with his come, about the look on Louis’ face when he gets what he wants, half wondering and half smug. Wholly satisfied.

The edges of Louis’ fingernails are digging into his skin, now. Both of their breathing is ragged and fast. “It’s time now,” Louis says, part demanding, part pleading. “Please, Harry, it’s time.”

Baby making time. If Harry wasn’t so turned on he’d probably be laughing, that stupid, ridiculous laugh that Louis always manages to pull out of him somehow, honking and loud.

“I know,” Harry says, reaching back and uncurling Louis’ leg from his back, guiding it down to the mattress. He pulls his fingers out and wipes them absently on the sheets - on his side of the bed so Louis won’t complain about it later - and leans back about three inches before Louis’ voice stops him.

“Don’t,” he says, just the one word, sharp and anxious. Harry pauses to smooth his lube free hand over Louis’ jaw, dig his thumb into the underside just enough to get all of his attention, not enough to hurt.

“Shh,” he says again, knocking their foreheads together. He can’t see into Louis’ eyes like this but that’s okay because he can feel him, feel every breath he takes, in tandem with Harry’s own. “I love you and I’m right here, okay? Right here. Just gonna take off my clothes, baby, not even gonna get off the bed.”

Louis’ exhale is a little shuddery, but it’s nothing to be concerned about, not when Harry can keep touching him the entire time he strips his shirt over his head, shucks his shorts down his legs and kicks them off.

He’s never been more grateful for their shared preference for wearing as little clothing as possible inside the house. Stripping takes less than ten seconds, even with Harry keeping at least one limb touching Louis’ at all times, and then he’s back, covering Louis’ body with his own, warm and bare, skin touching everywhere.

“I love you too,” Louis says belatedly, tangling the fingers of both hands in Harry’s hair as soon as he’s close enough, a little steadier but still shaky. 

That’s okay. Harry can take care of him. He’s never doubted his ability to take care of Louis.

“I know, sweetheart,” Harry murmurs, slipping one hand underneath Louis’ thigh and pulling him up to a better angle. “We’re sickeningly in love and we’re about to make a baby.”

A slow, radiant smile spreads across Louis’ face, almost blinding to look at. “Knock me up, then, lover,” he says, holding on and refusing to let go even as Harry’s finally pushing inside. The head of his cock presses against Louis’ rim, slippery with lube, making Harry’s heart pound in his chest.

Then it slips in, tight heat fluttering around him. It’s hard not to pant, already going crazy from exertion, exhilaration running through his veins as he sinks in deeper and deeper, every inch of his cock disappearing inside Louis’ arse.

Louis’ eyes flutter close. His fingers go tight in Harry’s hair and then loose, barely holding on as Harry works himself inside. He’s making noises in the back of his throat, a steady stream of tiny little whimpers, flush high in his cheekbones.

“Gonna look so lovely with my baby in you,” Harry tells him, sweeping Louis’ hair off of his face, so he can see every micro expression that passes. “My lovely boy with a beautiful little baby inside of him. Gonna be all knocked up and housebound, keep you barefoot and pregnant.”

The whimpers get a little higher in pitch. Harry’s cock is nearly all the way buried inside of his beautiful, wonderful boy and he’s so hard it almost hurts. Moving would feel amazing right now, friction and tight heat.

“Go,” Louis pleads, hands sliding out of Harry’s hair and down to his shoulders, digging in, probably leaving welts.

Good. Harry likes the sting of them in the morning, and he especially likes the way Louis’ eyes darken as he drags his fingers over them when they wake up, tender and reverent, mouth bitten red. It almost always leads to another round.

Harry goes. He pulls out nearly all the way and thrusts back in fast and deep, slamming against Louis’ prostate on the very first try. Louis’ wail is so loud that their neighbours would probably have called the cops if they were within hearing distance.

They’re not, though, and that’s a good thing. They’ve owned this house for two years now and they’ve had loud, screaming sex countless times. There’s really no reason to subject the police to that.

“Harry,” Louis gasps, arching up into Harry’s thrusts, meeting him movement for movement, “Haz, babe,” babbling out nonsense as he tries to ride Harry’s cock from the bottom, gives just as good as he’s getting.

“Knock you up,” Harry grits out, hauling Louis’ other leg up around his waist, pinning them tight together, nearly lifting him off of the mattress with every thrust. “Give you a belly full of come, baby, give you what you _want,_ what you keep asking me for - ”

He’s the one babbling nonsense now and he knows it. It doesn’t seem to matter. Louis’ noises keep getting high and higher, making less and less sense, until all he’s doing is sobbing, nails piercing the skin of Harry’s back, probably drawing blood, every single muscle tightening around Harry’s cock, making it even better, and then Louis comes, splattering all over himself, all over Harry. Eyes squeezed close and gasping for air, going limp on Harry’s cock, completely untouched. Just from Harry’s big prick pounding away in his little hole.

Harry’s tongue feels numb in his mouth, knows he’s slurring words out but doesn’t know what they are. He barely even knows what he’s doing as he pulls out, hands on Louis’ hips, turning him over, until he’s presented with the view of the tightest, tastiest arse he’s ever seen right in his face, pulling on Louis’ hips until he’s flush against Harry again, until Harry can sink back inside of him easily, fuck him on his knees, arms trembling as Louis tries to hold himself up and mostly fails.

“Like this,” Harry says, screwing his way in fast, picking up his rhythm right where he left off, gripping Louis’ hips tight and holding him still for it. “Gotta make sure we get it right, baby, get all my come where it needs to be, yeah?”

Louis whimpers back a _yeah, yeah_ soft and breathy, voice shot, fingers curling into the sheets. His head is hanging down between his arms, nearly pressed right up into their pillows, thighs starting to tremble.

Harry won’t let him fall. Harry would never let him fall.

“Might be our only chance for another month,” Harry continues, not even sure where any of this is coming from. “Wanna give you a baby, baby, fill you up. You want that?”

“Please,” Louis mumbles, slap of their skin echoing in the room. “Harry. Wan’ a baby.”

“I know,” Harry tells him, orgasm pulling at his belly. He buries his face into the back of Louis’ neck, mouths roughly at his skin, sucking deep bruises into him, ones that will last for days. Ones that will tell everyone who so much as _glances_ at him who he belongs to. With. There’ll be no room for doubt in anyone’s minds.

Even less room for doubt with their baby cradled in Louis’ arms, tiny and soft and all theirs. They’ll be a proper family.

“Baby,” Louis says again, mostly indistinct, and Harry comes at the soft, worn slur of his voice, fucked out and happy, pulsing in the smooth, tight warmth of Louis’ hole, filling him up with what feels like strand after strand of come.

Definitely pregnant. No way he’s not.

Harry pulls out slowly, making sure he doesn’t let Louis slip down to the mattress in the process, and eases him onto his back just as slowly.

“Think it worked,” Louis mumbles, sliding a hand over his own belly, palming at it idly despite the mess. “Gon’ have a baby.”

A tiny part of Harry insists it can’t be that easy. The part of his brain that’s still sex stupid goes with it.

“Have to be sure,” Harry murmurs, stretching over to the bedside table and rummaging through the top drawer until he finds what he needs, pulls it out. “Gonna hafta keep you all full of my come until we’re sure it took.”

Louis just watches him, eyes mostly closed, one hand still resting on his belly, rising and falling as he breathes. He lets Harry push his thigh up, slack and trusting, and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth while he watches Harry slick up the plug with lube. “S’that for me?”

“Yeah, baby,” Harry whispers, nudging the tip of it against Louis’ hole, pressing it in slowly. “Gonna keep you all plugged up for a while, yeah? Just to be sure.”

“Jus’ta be sure,” Louis echoes, not even twitching as the plug slides all the way home, keeping Harry’s come where it belongs, where it’s needed. He’s messy, dirty, fucked out and tired but still so willing to please, so willing to do what it takes to make sure there’ll be a baby.

Harry’s cock twitches. He gives the plug a little twist mindlessly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You’re a good boy for me,” he says softly, angling it so it presses against Louis’ prostate. Louis’ eyebrows furrow, lashes dipping against his cheeks, cheeks hollowing just the tiniest bit as he frowns.

He’s trying to figure out whether it feels good or not. “Good,” is all he says, blinking his eyes back open to meet Harry’s, pupils dilated.

“The best,” Harry confirms. Knows it’s a question even if it doesn’t sound like one. Can’t stop himself from giving the plug a gentle tug, pulling it a quarter of an inch out only to slide it right back in. “Love you so much, baby.”

The flush on Louis’ cheeks deepens. There’s still a touch of confusion written across his face, wondering even if he hasn’t voice it yet, and Harry wants - 

Harry wants to make him come again, all plugged up like this, full of Harry’s come.

“Louis,” he says, still soft, even as he gives the plug another twist, rubs it against the spots he knows so intimately, “baby, d’you think you could come again?”

Louis’ nose wrinkles a little. He’s still mostly unmoving, breathing with his hand on his belly, as if that’s going to help him make sure they’ve been successful. “Dunno. Maybe.”

Harry licks his bottom lip, soothing the sore skin. He must have been biting it again and not realized. “Do you _want_ to come again?”

Louis hesitates. Harry doesn’t stop rocking the plug. It’s probably unfair.

Louis accosting him with this out of the blue was unfair, though, and it’s not like Louis will hesitate to tell him to fuck off if he doesn’t want to or if Harry’s doing something he doesn’t like.

“Okay,” Louis decides eventually, face smoothing out, letting his eyes close and his head tip back on the pillow properly. “But I’m not gonna do any work.”

Doing the work isn’t usually Louis’ job when it comes to sex - that’s _Harry’s_ job and he’s damn well going to make sure he does it to the best of his ability every time. Still, Harry keeps his mouth shut. That’s exactly the type of comment that would see him banished to the couch tonight.

“Okay,” Harry responds, putting his own hand over Louis’ on his belly and leaning down to kiss his naval, slow, easy rhythm not faltering. “You just lie there and look pretty, sweetheart. Good at that, huh, looking pretty for me. Such a good boy.”

He keeps up a steady stream of nice, honest words while he fucks Louis with the plug. It takes a few minutes for Louis to get fully hard, cock curving against his thigh, but he gets there and by the time he is Harry’s in the same boat.

“Gonna have to feed me grapes and cheese when I’m all fat with your baby,” Louis slurs, hips shifting, attempting to work himself down on the plug. He’s mostly failing, body heavy and unmoving while Harry works him closer to his orgasm, and if he kept it up Harry could probably make him come just like that.

He’s already come untouched once today, though, and to be perfectly honest Harry’s cock is sticking straight up in the air, begging for some attention, so that’s another thing to try on a day that isn’t today.

“Give you whatever you want,” Harry promises, pressing kisses all over Louis’ belly, mostly ignoring the taste of come because he’ll be distracted by it, curling the fingers of his other hand around Louis’ cock and starting to stroke him at the same pace he’s fucking him.

Louis’ moan is broken and exhausted. Harry will let him sleep after he’s wrung this orgasm out of him, he will, but he wants it. Wants to watch Louis fall apart just one more time tonight because of him, because of how much he loves Harry, because of how much he’s getting off on this.

“Love you,” Louis sighs, finally giving up his orgasm, coming weakly through Harry’s fingers, barely more than a couple of dribbles. He’s all fucked out with a plug keeping him all full of Harry’s come.

“Love you too,” Harry says, letting go of the plug and shaking his wrist out, trying to avoid getting a cramp. There’s come all over Louis, some drying and some fresh, and Harry’s about to wrap his hand around his own cock and add to it except.

Except Louis stops him. “You gonna waste it?” he mumbles, eyes barely open, one leg sliding against Harry’s. “How you gonna knock me up if you’re just gonna shoot off on me belly?”

Harry’s mouth is so wet. “You want it?” he asks, barely recognizing his own voice as he fists his cock roughly, trying not to come, not quite yet. “You want two loads in you, baby? Give you a better chance of having a baby inside of you?”

Louis squirms weakly, trying to tug Harry up by his hair. Harry goes, but only because he wants to. Has nearly forgotten what the inside of Louis’ mouth tastes like.

“Just the tip,” Louis says, not begging except he is, he is fucking begging. For Harry to put his cock back inside his arse and give him another load of come, make double sure that he’s been knocked up. “Don’t put it all in, Harry, just the tip. ‘m sore.”

“But not too sore for the tip,” Harry whispers, already lining himself back up as he kisses Louis’ mouth, faint taste of caramel and lemonade still present. Exactly how he tasted five minutes ago. 

Just the tip will never be enough, at least not for Harry, but it’s somehow enough right now, tight and warm around the head of his cock, his own hand jerking off of the rest of his shaft, and it only takes a few seconds for Harry’s second orgasm to hit him, weaker than the first but still plenty of come, enough to satisfy Louis’ needs.

It’s a long, shaking orgasm that rocks him right to his core, thoughts of _gonna have my baby in him now_ and _holy fucking shit_ bouncing around in his head, and by the time he’s coherent enough to pull out Louis is mostly asleep, eyes closed but still fluttering, hands caught up in a death grip against the back of Harry’s shoulders.

Harry could have probably passed out like that himself, cock still buried inside Louis’ bum, if only nominally, but Louis had said _sore_ and Harry will never not take him seriously when he says that, so he pulls out for the second time that night, dribbles of come following him.

Louis’ whimper is distraught. Harry hushes him as he gropes for the plug, finds it again, and sinks it back into Louis carefully. So, so carefully.

“Can’t believe you let me do that to you, baby,” Harry murmurs, warm glow still in his chest. His baby pregnant with his baby. Imagine if that were possible.

He’s done nothing _but_ imagine for the past hour and a half.

“Can’t believe you actually put just the tip in,” Louis mumbles back, and falls asleep before Harry can even begin to summon up his outrage.

 

He wakes up to Louis grumbles in the middle of the night about being sore and sticky and _used_ , and why the fuck did Harry leave the plug in him instead of taking it out, and he’s got a headache pressing against the back of his skull but all of that fades away the second Louis sinks down onto his cock for the third time, holding his belly carefully and talking about the fifteen week old fetus growing inside of him.

It’s way hotter than it has any right to be.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://crazyupsetter.tumblr.com/)


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